


Giving and Taking

by SaunterVaguelyDownward (ClueingForLooks_221B)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Betrayal, Caring, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Eyes (Good Omens), Crowley's Hiss (Good Omens), Emotional Manipulation, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Romance, So many missed signals it's like Crowley's driving 90 mph through London, but not really, incubus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27909310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClueingForLooks_221B/pseuds/SaunterVaguelyDownward
Summary: “Crowley, dear, wait-wait a minute. Something’s not right here.”A muscle in the demon’s jaw twitched. “Oh, I’m not waiting, angel. You know you want thisss,” he hissed as he roughly grabbed Aziraphale.The angel yelped. “Yes, oh, yes of course I do, but not like this. You-you aren’t acting like yourself. Are you quite sure you’re alright?”Crowley’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling in anger.“Enough talking.”~In which Aziraphale finally gets what he's been longing for, but something is definitely not right with his demon.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 171





	Giving and Taking

The angel Aziraphale watched as his best friend, the demon named Crowley, gave him a wink and left out the front door of his bookshop. He smiled to himself, feeling happier than he had in a long time, and wiggled in his favorite chair to get more comfortable.

He realized he was grinning like a fool rather a lot these days. He was smart enough to know the reason why.

He and his friend had helped stop the End of Times about a month ago, and if that weren’t reason enough to be happy, well, it also meant he could spend much more time with his “hereditary enemy”. The two companions were no longer being observed by Heaven and Hell. Even if they were still occasionally being checked in on, there was nothing either place could do about their companionship. They had pulled off a rather ingenious ruse, fooling their higher ups into thinking they couldn’t be harmed by neither ethereal nor occult powers.

So, after more than six thousand years of clandestine gatherings and secret meeting places, the two were finally free to do what they wanted, when they wanted.

It seemed that what they wanted was to be around each other as _much_ as possible.

Crowley was just running out to get some nibbles for them to share this evening, some of the angel’s favorite french baked goods from a local patisserie that he adored, and Aziraphale sighed happily thinking about the long night of being with his demon that was to come.

He was trying to read but his thoughts kept returning to Crowley, which had been happening a lot lately. He kept thinking about his lean frame, his auburn hair, and that pouty mouth. He’d been looking at the demon’s mouth rather frequently, unable to help himself. And when that pout turned into a smile, _oh_ , the things it did to the angel. Aziraphale was able to see his demon’s eyes much more these days as well. Spending more time together privately and away from the general public meant Crowley was able to reveal his true self more freely. The angel was very grateful for that because he always loved his demon’s warm, golden, serpentine eyes.

Aziraphale could definitely admit, in the safety of his own mind, that he was well and truly in love with Crowley.

He was furious with himself because, while he summoned up the courage to stand up to Satan himself, he still couldn’t seem to find the strength to tell his best friend how he really felt.

But it was, in a sense, more terrifying than confronting Hell. He really had no choice in that matter. It was either he faced his fears, or the whole world would end. Whereas, if Crowley still only just saw them as friends, and the angel admitted his feelings, it might _change_ things. Aziraphale was finally feeling free of the stress of being scrutinized by the likes of Gabriel (that wanker) and the other angels that had constantly hounded him. He was so unbelievably happy these days, and the main reason for that was his time spent with Crowley. He didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable and then not having him around as often. Not when they finally had the freedom to do so.

His thoughts were interrupted then, by a rather persistent knocking on the bookshop door.

Grumbling about how they were most definitely _closed_ , the angel walked over to the entrance and opened the door.

“Oh! Crowley! That was fast. Why are you knocking?”

Crowley had his arms crossed over his chest and gave his angel a cocky grin.

“I forgot something. Can I come in, angel?”

Aziraphale’s eyebrow quirked in confusion at why his demon would ever think he needed to _ask_ that, as he stepped aside and waved him in. “Of course, dear. What was it that you forgot?”

Crowley sauntered past the angel, letting his hips sway in the provocative way that always reminded Aziraphale of his serpent form. He made his way over to the couch, shoving a book onto the floor and splaying himself out. 

The angel bristled at his friend’s uncharacteristic disregard for his books.

“Come join me, will you?” the demon asked. He let his shades fall down his nose slightly and made a show of letting his eyes roam over Aziraphale’s body, slowly, from top to bottom.

Aziraphale tentatively made his way over to the couch, sitting next to his demon stiffly. “Is everything all right, Crowley?”

“All good, angel,” he replied with a grin. “I’ve just- well... I’ve been doing some thinking.”

The demon sat up a bit straighter and scooted closer so that their knees bumped together.

Aziraphale looked down at where their bodies touched, his heart fluttering a bit at even such a small amount of contact.

“I’m tired of playing this game, Aziraphale,” he continued as he leaned in closer. He then placed a hand on the angel’s thigh, and Aziraphale sucked in a startled breath. “I’m tired of not just taking what I want,” his hand started moving higher.

“Cr-Crowley!” Aziraphale stuttered before swallowing thickly. “What do you mean?” he squeaked.

The demon grinned mischievously. “I think you know.”

He leaned in even closer and the angel could feel his hot breath on his ear, and _oh_ , just that small sensation was having an effect on him.

“We’ve been dancing around one another for far too long,” he whispered, sending a shiver down the angel’s spine.

“Oh?” the angel asked weakly.

“I love you, Aziraphale,” he breathed.

Aziraphale’s heart leapt into his throat and he looked at his demon with wide eyes. “You-you what?!”

Crowley gave him his most dashing smile and took a hand between his own. “I love you, and I _want_ you.”

Aziraphale gasped. The love of his life was positively throwing himself at him, and doing so with such confidence. He was dumbfounded. So many years of pining and skirting around feelings he always _hoped_ were mutual, and Crowley was just going to put it all on the table? Just like that? The angel had dreamt of this moment for centuries. To be honest, he was also slightly relieved that his demon gathered the courage to do something about it, one of them certainly needed to! But he still couldn’t help feeling that something was _off_.

Crowley pressed an openmouthed kiss to the angel’s palm and Aziraphale thought he might faint. The demon then leaned in again and started kissing along his jawline, sucking on an earlobe before murmuring, “Don’t you love me, angel?”

“Oh, darling, _yes_ , of course I do,” he breathed, sighing at the overwhelming sensations.

Crowley hummed, placing a hand on the angel’s chest and nudging him to more of a lying position. He slotted a thigh between the angel’s and groaned happily at the firmness he felt forming between his legs, pressing back at him.

“And I can _tell_ that you want me,” he growled.

The angel gasped again at the delicious pressure. Though, despite how badly he’d always wanted this, something _still_ just didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was the look in Crowley’s eyes? He was still wearing his shades, so he was only getting small glimpses and it was rather hard to tell. 

He put his hands up, pushing his demon off of him a little. “Crowley, wait. Wait just a minute. I’m sorry, I know I accused you of moving too fast in the past but this is a lot for me to wrap my head around at the moment.”

“Angel, don’t be silly. Why deny ourselves any longer what we both so clearly desire?” he asked, accentuating his point by rocking his own erection against the angel.

Aziraphale groaned, despite himself, and closed his eyes. The demon took this as an invitation and grabbed his wrists, forcing them down at the angel’s side so he could begin licking and biting his neck. The angel was whimpering under him, and Crowley got carried away and bit hard, drawing blood.

It hurt, a lot, and the angel sucked in a pained breath. Crowley didn’t apologize or ask if he was okay. Instead, he started working on undoing Aziraphale’s belt.

The angel was positive at this point that something was wrong. There was definitely something in the demon’s eyes that he didn’t like. Those normally caring and affectionate golden orbs held none of their usual warmth. Confused and worried, he grabbed at Crowley’s hands, trying to stop their assault on his belt.

“Crowley, dear, wait-wait a minute. Something’s not right here.”

A muscle in the demon’s jaw twitched. “Oh, I’m not waiting, angel. You know you want thisss,” he hissed as he roughly grabbed Aziraphale’s erection.

The angel yelped. “Yes, oh, yes of course I do, but not like this. You-you aren’t acting like yourself. Are you quite sure you’re alright?”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling in anger.

“Enough talking.”

The demon forcefully turned the stunned angel over and pressed him facedown on the couch. He grabbed Aziraphale’s wrists and painfully wrenched them behind his back, pressing them down in such a way that the angel couldn’t snap his fingers. Aziraphale cried out, and the demon held his arms against his back under one hand with a strength the angel didn’t know he possessed.

“Please, _please_ stop. Crowley, you’re hurting me!”

“It’s only going to hurt worse if you keep fighting me, angel,” he growled.

Aziraphale could feel the back of his trousers being ripped open and no, no this _couldn't_ be happening. There was no way his demon, his love, was about to _rape_ him. Someone or something must be possessing _his_ Crowley. Or maybe he ate or drank something that drugged him? Regardless, he had to put an end to this and get his demon help. Crowley was strong, but Aziraphale was stronger. He didn’t want to hurt his demon, wherever he may be in there, but he would as an absolute last resort.

“Crowley, dear,” he pleaded over his shoulder. “Please. _Stop_. I don't want to hurt you!”

The demon leaned over him. “You wouldn’t hurt me, you _love_ me,” he hissed into his ear. “And when you love someone you let them take what they _want_.”

Aziraphale’s whole body shuddered with fear. This was definitely _not_ his demon. Crowley was still holding his wrists together, and he could now hear him unzipping his pants behind him with his free hand. The angel began thrashing more forcefully, testing exactly how strong this version of Crowley was. The demon became more angered by his continued resistance and struck him in the back of the head.

Aziraphale saw stars and cursed his own stupidity. He shook his head, trying to clear it as he felt Crowley’s weight settle more fully over his thighs and then his mouth was panting hot breath onto the shell of his ear.

“You’re going to like thisss, I promise.”

The bell above the front door of the bookshop jingled and both the demon’s and the angel’s heads snapped up to look in its direction.

“Sorry, angel, they didn’t have any more croissants. But the owner _guaranteed_ me you’d like these just as-”

Crowley stopped dead in his tracks at the sight that greeted him, dropping his bag of french breads and pastries. Sheer shock and bewilderment covered his features. He first took in the compromising position his angel was engaged in. Next, his eyes widened as he realized it was somehow _him_ that was compromising said angel.

“What the-?” he began in disbelief.

Upon closer inspection, he could see Aziraphale’s arms were wrenched behind his back. His serpentine eyes narrowed as he noticed the angel's neck was bleeding, his trousers were ripped and he looked _terrified_.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he finished with fury.

“Crowley?” the angel questioned in confusion.

‘Fake’ Crowley grinned wickedly as he pulled the angel’s arms at an even more uncomfortable angle.

Aziraphale grimaced in pain and Crowley felt his blood boil.

“Get. Away. From. Him,” he growled with hatred.

“Angel,” the fake Crowley hissed, “tell this imposter that you and I are _busy_.”

Aziraphale’s head may have still been swimming a bit, but he knew that of the two Crowley’s in the room, the one currently hurting him couldn’t be the one he knew and loved. He was still too woozy to physically fight him off and the fiend still had his hands pressed together, which made it impossible for him to snap his fingers and use a miracle.

The real Crowley was able to snap his fingers though, and he did so with a supremely pissed off look on his face. The look quickly dissolved into confusion when he realized the other Crowley didn’t fly off of his angel and go head first out the window.

“Your demonic power is no use on _me_ ,” fake Crowley leered.

“What _are_ you?” Crowley seethed as he began moving toward the thing that was harming his angel.

“Stay back!” he shouted. Part of his hand morphed into a sharp blade, and he pressed it against the angel’s neck threateningly. 

Crowley stopped abruptly, his eyes taking in all the details carefully.

“My name is Anthony J. Crowley,” fake Crowley grinned evilly. “Aziraphale here and I are good friends and would like some _privacy_ now.”

“You’re a shapeshifting demon who’s trying to force himself on _my_ angel,” Crowley growled. He then looked the imposter up and down with disgust before adding, “So, an incubus, then?” The other demon snarled and Crowley’s anger was flaring, his body taught and ready to spring forward at the first sign of an opening. 

The shapeshifter looked furious. “Leave, now, or I’ll slit his throat.”

Crowley felt his fangs growing and claws forming on his hands.

“That’sss not happening,” he hissed. “If you try to hurt him any further, I _will_ kill you.”

Aziraphale was finally feeling clear headed once again, and he had been watching his Crowley the whole time. The two of them shared a meaningful glance, unnoticed by the imposter on his back. The angel braced himself before manifesting his wings with force, only momentarily, knocking back the incubus and stunning him.

Crowley took the opportunity and _lunged_. He ripped the imposter off of his friend, pulling him into a scuffle as the two fought and tried to overpower one another.

Aziraphale scrambled to his feet, intending to help, but realized he had lost sight of which demon was _his_ Crowley.

“Aziraphale, help me!” one of the Crowley’s shouted desperately.

“No! Don’t! I’m the real one,” the other cried out.

Aziraphale couldn’t believe his eyes, they looked and sounded _exactly_ the same. He was panting heavily, thinking desperately of what to do. It occurred to him suddenly, with the long history he and the real Crowley shared, that there was no way an imposter would know the secrets they had between them. So there was, in fact, a very simple way to solve this, and the angel approached the two brawling demons calmly. Raising his hand, he snapped his fingers and the two were frozen in place.

“I’m going to ask both of you a question that only the _real_ Crowley would know and you’ll both get to answer each one.”

Both of the demons straightened and looked confident.

Aziraphale approached the Crowley on the left first. “Let me see your eyes.”

The demon removed his shades and gave the angel a searching look.

“You helped make a Shakespearian play popular as a favor to me. Which one was it?”

“Hamlet,” this Crowley breathed.

The angel kept his face neutral and moved to the demon on the right. “And you, let me see your eyes.”

This Crowley removed his shades as well, and Aziraphale nodded. 

“What’s your answer?”

“Hamlet! Angel, of _course_ it was Hamlet,” this demon insisted.

“Right, moving along,” he continued, still speaking to the demon on the right. “What does the ‘J’ in your name stand for?”

“James,” he answered easily.

The angel nodded and moved back in front of the demon on the left. He looked in his eyes and lifted a questioning brow. “Same question to you now.”

This Crowley smiled. “It’s just a ‘J’, really...” he shrugged.

Aziraphale looked into _his_ demon’s kind eyes and grinned back. Snapping his fingers, the demon on the right was now bound by chains.

“Arrrgh, no!” he roared as he tried in vain to free himself.

Aziraphale and Crowley tore their eyes away from each other to turn hateful glares upon the now struggling demon. The ethereal power behind the angel’s binding must have stripped away the shapeshifters abilities, as this demon no longer looked like Crowley. He was a bit shorter and still thin with long black hair that, in certain light, held a shade of dark green. His eyes were a rather disturbing shade of red, which the angel assumed was the precise reason he couldn't quite get them right.

“What’s your name? What are you _doing_ here?” Crowley hissed angrily.

“Xinoth,” he spat. He licked his lips suggestively while looking at Aziraphale before adding, “and isn’t it obvious?”

Crowley growled. “Why _him_?”

Xinoth looked incredulous. “Uhh, he's an _angel_. An angel who has infamously befriended a demon. You gave me an in. I’ve always wanted an angel and your ‘relationship’ made it so _easy_ for me to get close.”

Aziraphale blanched. Oh, _please_ don't let this monster reveal his true feelings about Crowley. Not now, not like this. 

Crowley looked to his angel and saw that he now appeared ill. He wanted more than anything to wrap a comforting arm around him but- but they’ve never really _done_ that. Despite the fact that he’d wanted to for millennia. In this moment, however, he knew the only thing that would truly help right now was to get rid of this shapeshifting demon for good.

“I would kill you,” Crowley seethed, approaching the incubus with his fangs and claws out, “but I know my angel friend here wouldn’t like that. So, you’re going to return to whatever dank, depressing, shit-stained hole from Hell you crawled from, and you’re going to _stay_ there.”

The shapeshifter’s eyes widened the slightest bit as Crowley stood in front of him, grabbing him by the collar.

“If I do catch you slinking around here ever again, I _will_ kill you.”

Xinoth sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes and nodding in agreeance, and the angel snapped his fingers to remove his bonds. The incubus slowly made his way to the door, the demon and angel glaring at him the whole way. He stood in the doorway to leave, but turned around to address the others one last time.

“You know, angel, I really just saved you some grief. He’s a demon, after all, and he’ll force himself on you eventually. Now you’ll know what to expect.”

Crowley bristled at the accusations and Aziraphale fumed.

“He’s _nothing_ like you!” The angel growled as he marched over to the door and forcefully shoved the shapeshifter out.

Xinoth laughed unkindly as he looked back at the two of them. “What sort of pathetic excuse for an angel lets himself love a demon, anyway?”

Aziraphale slammed the door and leaned his back against it, his heart positively thundering in his chest. He opened his eyes slowly to see that Crowley was standing there looking at him. His demon’s fangs and claws were retracting and the hard line of his shoulders relaxed. He blew out a breath and, while he looked relieved, his eyes were full of concern for his angel. Aziraphale worried his lip. Why wasn’t he running for the hills after what they both just heard? Perhaps… perhaps he doesn’t believe it? Or if he does, maybe he thinks the incubus meant love in the sense that they care for each other? There is a chance his demon doesn't know that Xinoth just outed the truth that Aziraphale is, in fact, head over heels _in love_ with Crowley.

“Oh, angel,” he breathed, approaching his friend slowly. “Are you all right?”

Aziraphale’s brow furrowed as he nodded his head quickly. His demon knew him better than that, though, and gave him a look of disbelief. The angel looked up toward the ceiling, avoiding those caring, golden eyes as he tried to fend off the tears that were now welling up in his. Damn, why now of all times was his body refusing to listen to him?

Well, he supposed, he _had_ just been assaulted, and toyed with emotionally. It would only make sense that he was feeling a bit, _raw_.

Crowley moved closer, cautiously, very much aware of the fact that his angel had just been attacked by some... _thing_ that looked exactly like him. The angel looked back at him again with wide, anxious eyes. _Damn_ that asshole, Xinoth. Things had been going so well with him and Aziraphale these last couple weeks. Ever since they averted the apocalypse they’d been able to be together as often as they wanted. Which turned out to be pretty damned often, thankfully. Crowley hoped this hadn’t set them back permanently. Most importantly, he hoped his angel was going to be okay.

“I-I promise it’s me,” the demon coaxed with a small smile. “You can ask me another question. Anything you want to know, angel.”

 _Do you love me like I love you?_ Would have been his question if he had any courage. Instead, Aziraphale let out a deep breath, his body relaxing slightly, before he said:

“I know it’s you, dear. I can tell by your eyes.”

The demon was right in front of him now, a shy smile gracing his lips. “You can?”

“Yes,” the angel looked away, blushing a bit. “I knew it was you when you took off your glasses but I figured there was no harm in being unequivocally sure.”

“Clever angel,” Crowley praised as his smile grew larger. He also inwardly breathed a huge sigh of relief. No permanent harm done between them, then.

“Not so clever, I'm afraid,” the angel grimaced. 

Crowley frowned at that, feeling defensive of his angel once again. “I want you to tell me everything. Can you do that for me? I need to understand how that filth got in here so we can prevent anything like that from ever happening again.”

Aziraphale looked into those wide, golden and caring serpentine eyes and knew he would never again deny his demon anything. Anything Crowley wanted, Crowley got. He nodded wearily and his friend blew out a relieved breath.

“Okay, good. But first, angel, your neck is still bleeding.”

“Oh, right,” Aziraphale replied weakly. His demon was so close and he was raising a hand toward him gingerly.

“Can I- is it okay if I heal you?” he questioned softly.

The angel felt his chest constrict, longing for his touch. He nodded again and Crowley smiled. His demon placed one finger under his jaw, gently lifting it so he could get a better look. His other hand came up and rested over his wound. It felt so warm, so comforting and so _familiar_. It did things to the angel, made him feel those butterflies that humans describe. It was very unlike any of the ways the imposter Crowley had touched him; all grabbing and taking and _forcing_. Aziraphale shuddered again, thinking how foolish he was to let that shapeshifter get so far.

Crowley's eyes narrowed in concern at his angel's full body tremor. The wound was healed, but he left his hand gently cupping his angel’s neck.

“Can I- umm,” the demon bit his lip as he worked up the courage to ask something he’d wanted to ask for _centuries_. “Would it be okay if I- if we?” he growled in frustration at himself.

“What is it, dear?” the angel asked with a small, hopeful smile.

“Angel, I just- that _really_ scared me, y’know? Walking in on that and I- just. I really want to hold you. Would that be okay? I need to make sure you’re okay, to _feel_ it.”

Aziraphale let out a small whimper, smiling and closing his eyes. _Oh_ , but he’d wanted to hear that invitation for so long. It was too bad he never had the courage to ask. But here was his lovely demon, wanting to comfort the both of them, and the angel was more than willing to let that happen.

Crowley watched the range of emotions that crossed his angel's face with great interest. Then those expressive blue eyes opened back up and looked at him like he was the most precious thing on earth. His angel gave a small nod, and Crowley used the hand that was still cupping the back of his neck to gently tug him closer.

Aziraphale all but fell into Crowley, pressing his face into his shoulder and wrapping his arms tightly around his lower back. The demon enveloped his angel, putting his arms around his upper back, squeezing him and then nuzzling into his hair and inhaling deeply. They were holding onto each other so tightly, there was no space between their bodies from their hips to their shoulders. They felt every breath, every heartbeat that passed between them. The demon let one hand come up, cupping the back of his angel's head and carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Angel, I- I’m so sorry that monster used our friendship to hurt you.” Crowley pressed his lips into Aziraphale's hair before murmuring, “are you _sure_ you’re okay?”

Aziraphale let a whimper escape at all of the remarkable sensations. He moved his head so that he was nosing into Crowley’s neck, and he felt his demon take a sharp intake of breath.

“I am now, dearest,” he breathed, “and you have _nothing_ to apologize for.”

Crowley hummed, wanting to argue, but his mind was too focused on the fact that his angel had just called him “dearest” and was wrapped so wonderfully around him. He squeezed tighter, letting the all encompassing reassurance that Aziraphale was okay wash over him. 

“ _Oh_ , I wish we could have been doing this all along,” the angel sighed against his clavicle.

“Feels good, angel,” Crowley murmured back, “ _you_ feel good.” 

Aziraphale smiled widely, inhaling deeply once again. His demon smelled so nice. Like bonfire and leather and like, well... _home_.

“I’m just so relieved you’re okay,” the demon said into his blonde curls. His arms tightened a bit, then, before hesitantly asking, “He didn’t manage to hurt you… anywhere else, did he?”

Aziraphale shook his head, leaning back just enough so he could meet his friend’s concerned gaze. “No, dear, he didn’t manage _that_.”

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes not leaving the angel’s. “S’bad enough he hurt you at all. I’m regretting letting his smarmy ass go.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You did the right thing. I wouldn’t want any other demons trying to get revenge on you. We’ve pissed off enough occult and ethereal beings as it is.”

“Saved the world though, so, worth it,” Crowley smirked.

Aziraphale smiled back at him and his demon’s face turned serious. Those golden eyes moved slowly down to his lips and _oh_. Oh, their mouths were so close. The angel could feel every warm puff of Crowley’s breath skirting across his lips.

“We get to do this now, too. So, also worth it,” the angel whispered dreamily.

Crowley took in a breath, blinking, as a look of conflict crossed over his features. What did he think he was doing? Yes, he wanted to kiss those angelic lips more than anything, but Aziraphale was just physically assaulted. Even if it hadn’t been by something that looked _just like him_ , the angel was surely feeling raw and emotional. Crowley would not take advantage, despite the fact that it definitely seemed like Aziraphale wanted to kiss him. But that had to be trauma related. He was providing his best friend comfort, and they were so _close_ , so of course it was all very heady and confusing.

Crowley nudged Aziraphale’s head back down to rest on his shoulder, giving his angel another tight squeeze, before separating and taking a step back.

“Let’s sit down, angel. Can I get you anything? Tea? Alcohol?”

Aziraphale tried to keep the look of devastation off of his features. It was very difficult to do, however, when he reached the realization that while the fake Crowley might want him, his _actual_ true love did not. His demon was trying so very hard to take care of him right now, though. He was so kind, so thoughtful, and maybe he wasn’t _in love_ with Aziraphale, but his friendship would always mean the world to him.

“Oh… thank you, dear. Yes, tea does sound quite lovely,” he answered with a smile, doing his best to hide his stupid broken heart.

Crowley flashed him a grin. “You got it, back in a sec.”

When the demon returned with two steaming mugs, he was dismayed to see that his angel had chosen to sit in his armchair. Crowley was really hoping he could stay close to him as they talked. Maybe his angel just didn’t want to sit on the couch he had just been attacked on? As Aziraphale gave him a smile that made his heart stutter while he handed him his tea, he really hoped that was the reason.

Crowley sat on the end of the couch closest to his angel and waited for Aziraphale to take a sip of his drink.

“I invited him _in_ , Crowley,” the angel said with dismay a few moments after he swallowed his tea. 

“I kind of figured that part out,” he nodded. “There was no other way for him to get past your shields.”

Aziraphale shook his head at his own thoughtlessness. “I asked him why he was knocking, and he didn’t even answer me. He just asked if he could come in and I _let_ him.”

“Angel,” Crowley began defensively, “he looked _exactly_ like me. How were you supposed to know?”

Aziraphale sighed, leaning his head back against the chair. “Be that as it may, I know _you_. Looking back on it now I just feel so foolish. There were so many signs from the moment he showed up at the door.”

Crowley took a drink of his tea. He winced, remembering he didn't like tea, before setting his cup aside. “What other signs?”

Aziraphale worried his lip. “Well, his eyes, as I said. They were just... _wrong_. And- oh! He shoved one of my first editions onto the _floor_."

Crowley's eyes narrowed. "Are you _sure_ you don't want me to kill him?"

Aziraphale chuckled. "That won't be necessary, dear." The angel smiled fondly at his demon over his cup of tea, taking a sip before adding thoughtfully, "he was so forward. So _confident_.”

“Oi!” Crowley called out, still smiling. “Are you saying _I’m_ not confident?”

“It was a different kind of confidence, dear,” He then paled a bit before adding, “Like how he thought he could touch me any way he wanted.”

Crowley’s fists clenched as he pictured the way that monster was hurting his angel when he first walked in. He felt fury bubbling up inside him again. He looked over and met his angel’s eyes, and Aziraphale was giving him a concerned look. He forced himself to calm down, smiling reassuringly in his angel’s direction. 

The demon cleared his throat. “That actually reminds me of something else I was curious about...”

“Yes?” he asked quietly, taking another sip of his tea.

“It’s just that, well, you- you thought that was me, obviously,” he stuttered awkwardly, “and, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you are _stronger_ than me, and him. I’m assuming, when I walked in, that more had happened before it got to that point? Was he…kissing you?”

Aziraphale swallowed thickly as he met his demon’s eyes and gave a tight nod.

Crowley’s eyes widened and he felt something ugly and jealous flip flop in his stomach. “Angel, why-? Did you _want_ -? Erm. You didn’t push him away?”

The angel was tapping his fingers nervously on the arm of the chair. “Well, we um… we didn’t actually _kiss_ per se, but he was uh, putting moves on me and I _thought_ he was you and I was so confused. I didn’t want to hurt you,” he replied with a quick glance at his demon.

Crowley’s eyebrows narrowed in thought. He was feeling a very odd combination of emotions at the moment. He was relieved the imposter didn’t share what was supposed to be _his_ first kiss with his angel, while being furious that piece of shit thought he could ever touch him at all, and lastly, he felt disappointment. He couldn't keep that last emotion entirely out of his voice as he replied. “Oh, right. Yes. So, you thought that I had those sorts of amorous feelings for you and, because you don’t feel that way, you were trying to let me down easy?” 

Both the demon and the angel stared at each other in confusion.

“No, that’s not... no. I meant I didn’t want to _physically_ harm you,” the angel put his tea aside and leaned forward a bit in his seat. “At first he wasn’t being rough and I was just confused by his, or rather, what I thought was your behaviour. But then, he was- he was really hurting me, and I knew something was wrong. At that point, he had restrained my hands so I couldn’t miracle him off of me. Then he struck me in the back of the head so I lost focus and couldn’t force him off of me.” Aziraphale paused, noticing his demon’s pupils contract into slits and his nostrils flaring in anger. He took a deep breath, meeting Crowley’s eyes as he continued. “Even though I thought it was really you I figured something was wrong with you. Like, maybe you had been cursed or drugged because I _knew_ that whatever was happening couldn’t be true. It _couldn’t_ be because you… you would never harm me.”

Crowley swallowed over a lump in his throat, very much wishing his angel wasn’t sitting so far away. “You’re right, angel,” he whispered, “I would _never_ hurt you.”

Aziraphale felt his whole body warm at the sincerity of those words. He already knew them to be true, but _oh_ , the loving way Crowley was gazing at him right now was simply melting him. It just wasn’t _fair_. Why did he have to fall for such a beautiful creature?

“So, what sorts of things did he say to you?” his demon asked, somewhat timidly.

“Hmm?” the angel asked, knowing where this was going and not wanting to visit that place.

“Well, I mean, he must have said _something_ for you to let him get so close to you?” Crowley gazed at him intently before adding, “While he was ‘putting moves on you’? What was his excuse? His reasoning?”

Aziraphale fidgeted uncomfortably, not meeting his demon’s eyes. “Oh, dear, you haven’t touched your tea. You don’t seem to be enjoying it much, do you?”

“What?” Crowley asked, blindsided by the change in topic. “No, I- Aziraphale, I don’t like tea.”

“Well, then why on earth did you make it?” he asked with a nervous chuckle.

“I- don’t know. I was making it for you and just grabbed one for myself. I wasn’t thinking, I was worried- stop changing the subject, angel. What did he say?”

“Well, let me fetch you something you do like!” he said enthusiastically as he stood. He began walking toward the kitchen area, clasping his hands together. “What’ll it be? Coffee? Wine, perhaps?”

Crowley stood up in front of Aziraphale, blocking the angel’s way out of the room.

“For God’s- for Satan’s-!” the demon closed his eyes tightly in frustration. “Forget the coffee, forget the wine and forget the bloody tea,” he growled. He then exhaled forcefully, calming himself. He gripped his angel's arms firmly, but gently, in order to make him meet his eyes. “Aziraphale, this _monster_ came into your bookshop and pretended to be _me_. He used our friendship to get close enough to harm you. I can’t get the way he was hurting you out of my head. So if you won’t let me protect you by killing the bastard then you _will_ let me protect you by giving me all the information of how he did this. So, _please_ , tell me what he-“

“He said that he loved me!” Aziraphale blurted out, his face immediately turning crimson.

Crowley’s eyes practically bugged out of his head. He felt as though his heart stopped and all of the air had been sucked out of his lungs. 

“He _what_?”

How _dare_ he. How dare that imposter say the words to his angel that he had only dreamt of saying. That monster used the way he felt about the love of his life to _assault_ him. To try to _rape_ him. At that thought, the demon realized he was still gripping his angel’s arms, and he drew his hands back as if Aziraphale had burnt him.

Crowley couldn’t stop the sheer anger he felt from showing on his face, and Aziraphale’s already crestfallen expression became pained when he saw and felt the way his demon recoiled from him.

“I-uhm… I understand that you don’t feel that way, my dear. Don’t worry about that,” he added, a half-hearted chuckle leaving his throat.

Crowley blinked. The anger left his body as he looked to his angel, and now all he felt was confusion.

“It’s just, thinking it was you, at first anyway, and hearing you say _those_ words and I-” the angel’s voice broke and he closed his eyes tightly, taking deep breaths before trying again. “I thought it was real. So finding out it was some ploy for me to be taken advantage of, that hurt, obviously. But being rejected by you, my _real_ Crowley, I don’t- I’m having a hard time coping.”

Crowley watched with absolute dismay as a tear leaked from his angel’s eyes. Aziraphale then put his head in his hands and the demon’s breath hitched in disbelief at what he was hearing.

“Angel, I- what are you talking about? I would _never_ reject you,” he added insistently, taking a step closer. He placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, reassuringly.

“Oh, Crowley,” the angel sniffed as he met those wide, concerned eyes, “it’s okay, really. Your friendship means the literal _world_ to me. It’s just… it’ll take me some time to get over you,” he finished with a watery smile.

Complete and utter confusion took over the demon, and he shook his head to attempt to clear it. “Get over me? Angel, I-I don’t understand,” he breathed, “What are you not saying? Please, tell me what you mean.”

Aziraphale took a deep, shuddering breath. Hadn't he just told himself he was through keeping things from Crowley? Through denying him? His friend whom he loved so much, and who _clearly_ loved him, even if it wasn’t in the same way. He deserved the truth, deserved to know how he truly felt about him. The angel twisted his golden ring around his finger nervously and looked down as he began to speak. “I have something to tell you, something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long, long time now.” He fidgeted a bit, taking another deep breath. “The way I look at it, there are three different outcomes to what I’m about to say. Two of the outcomes are good, fantastic even. And the third one, well...” the angel swallowed thickly around a lump in his throat, “the third one is the reason why I’ve been putting this off for so very long.”

Crowley looked very worried now, his hand still gripping his angel’s shoulder. He gave him another comforting squeeze to encourage him to go on.

The angel raised his bright blue eyes, gazing adoringly at his demon as he placed a warm, slightly trembling hand on his cheek. “Oh, Crowley. I am, in fact, _very_ _much_ in love with you. I have been for a long time. Since before I even came to the realization myself, I think.”

Time seemed to slow down for Crowley. He inhaled sharply, a large array of emotions crossing his features. He felt his heartbeat speed up and a great rushing sound forming in his ears. His lower lip trembled a bit and he closed his eyes as if he were in pain. He pressed his cheek into the warmth of Aziraphale’s hand and took a deep, filling breath. Traces of a smile began forming on the corners of his mouth and when he opened his eyes back up, the angel almost gasped at what he saw in their depths.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered, his eyes now glassy. “You’ve got to know- you _must_ know, how I’ve felt about you all this time?”

Aziraphale looked at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Eyes that held a glimmer of hope.

“Oh, _angel_ ,” he breathed, “Why do you look so frightened? Of _course_ I feel the same way about you.”

He blinked rapidly as he felt his heart stutter, a smile breaking out on his face. “You-you do?”

Crowley moved closer into his space, wrapping one arm around his waist and using the other to cup the angel’s cheek. “You maddening, gorgeous, kind hearted, great winged idiot,” he murmured affectionately, “I _love_ you, angel. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Aziraphale whimpered, letting his body melt into his demon’s and cradling his face with both of his hands. They were still gazing deep into each other’s eyes, both now wondering how they ever could have missed the unbridled love reflecting within them. His whole body felt warm and his stomach was fluttering happily. The fake Crowley had insisted earlier that ‘when you love someone you let them take what they want’. Aziraphale had known without a doubt in that instant that he wasn’t the demon he knew. The Crowley he loved had never taken anything from Aziraphale ever in his entire existence. He’d only ever _given_. His time, his friendship, his care. He’d brought him wine and chocolates, french baked goods and Indian carryout. He offered him rides and his assistance, he saved his books and his very _life_.

Aziraphale shook his head at his own willful ignorance. He smiled back at his demon, stroking his thumbs over his cheeks. “I’m so sorry it took something like this to happen before I could tell you how I truly feel.”

Crowley placed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth before nuzzling him. “I am too. And I’m sorry you thought I was rejecting you tonight. Nothing could be further from the truth.” His face took on a pained, guilty expression. “You went through something traumatic and your attacker looked just like me-”

“I know you’re not him,” the angel said with absolute conviction before adding softly, fondly, “everything felt wrong with him. Here, being this close with you, nothing’s ever felt so _right_.”

Crowley was practically purring, stroking his angel’s face tenderly. “You should know, it took every last bit of willpower I had not to kiss you.”

Aziraphale sighed, leaning into his demon’s touch. He blushed a bit before saying, “oh, really? That _much_ willpower, you say?”

Crowley’s pupils were dilated and he hummed his affirmation with a smile. He carded a hand through his blonde curls and brought their mouths within millimeters of each other.

“Every. Last. Bit,” he whispered, his breath tickling the angel’s lips.

“ _Oh_ ,” Aziraphale breathed before his lips were captured by his demon’s.

The kiss was chaste at first, their warm, soft lips pressed against each other. Crowley then deepened it a bit, moving his mouth gently against the angel’s and capturing his upper lip between his own. Aziraphale whimpered and began moving his lips too. Slowly, gently, sliding their mouths against one another, taking small nips and breathing sighs and moaning into one another. It was simply heaven and- oh, no, that wasn’t quite right. 

Heaven had _nothing_ on this.

They separated slightly, panting and gazing into each other's wide eyes. Crowley could feel his heart hammering away in his chest, and because his angel was pressed impossibly close against him, he could feel his heart answering back just as fiercely.

“Oh, _my_ ,” Aziraphale panted. “Perhaps it’s for the best that we hadn’t discovered this earlier,” he said with a smirk.

Crowley lifted a questioning eyebrow, amusement on his features as well. “Is that so?”

“Quite, my dear. We wouldn’t have figured out how to stop the apocalypse if I was snogging you senseless all the time.”

Crowley growled and pulled his angel back to him, doing his best to _devour_ him.

Aziraphale gasped and smiled, his whole body feeling light and warm, loved and _safe_. He nipped at Crowley's lips, licked against his teeth and moaned along with his demon when the warm slide of their tongues met. He ran his hands through that perfectly coiffed hair, having always wanted to know what it felt like and to be able to mess it up a bit. The angel began walking his demon backward, until the backs of Crowley's knees hit the couch and he sat down with a huff. Aziraphale bit his lip, his base coiling with _want_ as he gazed down at his love. Those kiss swollen lips, the flush on his neck and chest just above his shirt line, those golden eyes staring back at him filled with desire. Aziraphale straddled Crowley's hips, sitting in his lap as he cradled his face in his hands.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, do you know that?" the angel asked, kissing along his jawline.

Crowley whimpered in response, his hands untucking the angel's shirt from his trousers.

"I've always thought so. Ever since Eden." He nuzzled the demon's neck before whispering in the shell of his ear. "You may have used your wiles to get Adam and Eve to eat that apple, but that wasn't the only tempting you accomplished that day."

" _Angel_ ," Crowley moaned and Aziraphale grinned. The demon pulled him in for another deep, smoldering kiss and the angel did his best to pour into it all of his love, his devotion and his sincerity. 

Crowley had given him so much and tonight, and for the rest of eternity, Aziraphale would give him the world.


End file.
